


The Twelve Days of Bromance

by allrounderinsane



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9157795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allrounderinsane/pseuds/allrounderinsane
Summary: With Jason in Sydney for Christmas, he needs to ensure that he makes his Christmas wishes (and presence) felt in the lead-up to December 25th.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this fic. I have to admit that I struggle immensely with characterisation so I hope that it's not too terrible xx

Ben returns to the flat late at night, four days out from Christmas. The space is dark and cold, as he’d expect with Jason absent for the winter. Ben reaches around the corner to flick on the light. There’s a bit of a stench in the flat; perhaps Jason had left dishes in the sink when he departed. That wouldn’t have entirely surprised Ben. He hears a fluttering sound, which startles him a little. Ben steps gingerly into the living room. He spots the kitchen, with the light left on, and groans. While it’s considerate of Jason, the ensuing power bill won’t be. There’s a note attached to the fridge with a smiley face magnet. Ben pads through the flat, so that he’s close enough to read it.

 

_Don’t get all mushy and think that we’re true loves or something, but Happy Christmas Stokesy_

Underneath, Jason had drawn a sketch of the two of them, adorned with reindeer ears. Ben giggles, but draws his eyebrows together as he pulls the note down from the fridge. It’s cute. Like Jason, it might just need to be kept around to brighten the short winter days masquerading as the festive season. With another flutter, Ben’s eyes pan around to the kitchen table. They widen at the sight of a bird beside the bread loaf, peering up innocently. Ben lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He shuffles closer over the dirty tiled floor, moving slowly. The last thing Ben wants is to startle the bird, at least not before he managed to get it out of the apartment.

 

Well . . . it’s a cold night. Ben doesn’t need company, but the bird might. At the very least, he could offer Jason’s bed in order to keep it warm for the night. Jason’s bed, in fact, might appreciate the company. Even before he left for Sydney, it’s been notoriously empty of late, and Ben’s devoured every second with vigour. Now that he’s closer, Ben notices a thin strip of paper tied around one of the bird’s legs. Carefully, he uses the remains of his fingernails that weren’t chewed off in India, to untie the knot and read the message scrawled on it, recognisably in Jason’s handwriting.

_Here’s your partridge (don’t eat it! At least not without me…..) The pear trees in the garden._

Ben’s eyes flicked back to the note which he’d now placed down on the bench, just out of the bird’s reach. Lips widening in realisation, he rocks his head back.

“I get it now. That sappy lad.” Ben’s not sure whether he’s talking to himself or the partridge.

Ben’s not sure which is worse.

 

The lads would probably give him stick for either. Ben’s considering getting on to Burnsy to get onto Kez to tell Jason that he’s a sappy lad, because that would be so much more fun than texting Jason directly.

“Come on,” Ben carefully wraps an arm around the bird, cradling it against his chest. “Let’s get you into your mate Jason’s bed.”

He’s a little surprised, albeit grateful, when the bird doesn’t protest against being carried. Ben takes a few steps out of the kitchen. Once he enters the darkened hallway, a faraway barking panics the partridge in his arms. Wings lash against Ben’s forearms and torso. Startled, he curses and steadies himself.

“Sorry, Alan.” Ben giggles at the nickname once the partridge has finished fretting. “I shouldn’t swear in front of your innocent ears. Where are the ears of a partridge?”

 

+

 

The next morning, Ben ambles into the bathroom after he awoke. He’ll gargle, then go and check on Alan, who hopefully hasn’t (or has) destroyed Jason’s room. When Ben opens the top drawer, he finds a folded sheet of paper, with five yellow circles drawn on it. With a chuckle, he flips it over as instructed.

_Until our IPL riches these can be your five golden rings. Happy Christmas!_

Carefully, Ben rolls up the piece of paper and wraps it around his finger. Retrieving his phone from the charger, he snaps a photo and sends it to Jason.

_Thx mate. We’re Christmas married._

 

Ben’s not sure what time of the day or night it is in Sydney. Jason will reply in his own time. After gargling, Ben leaves the bathroom and heads across the hall to Jason’s room. He tentatively opens the door. Alan is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’s waiting to ambush Ben. Then, he spots him, perched on top of the cupboard, already starting to make a nest out of Jason’s underwear. Ben smiles and strokes his finger down the bird’s back.

“Good boy, Alan,” he says, “making yourself right at home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Further exploration of Jason's Christmas gifts . . . hope you enjoy! xxxx

Leaving Alan inside, Ben opts to check out the new addition to their garden, once the sun finally begins to rise. Coffee mug in hand, he pads barefoot out into their small courtyard and spots the new pear tree immediately. It stood proudly in the corner, albeit a little lopsided. Its foliage is browning, most likely from a lack of love since Jason departed. While it’s probably not long until they’re told to remove it, Ben decides to, at least for the meantime, look after it. He ambles around the side of the block of flats. There, Ben locates a cracked watering can. He fills it up using the rusty side tap, then carefully walks over to the tree. Water dribbles out onto his feet with every step.

 

Ben draws circles with the stream of water around the base of their new pear tree. He can’t help but chuckle, it’s awfully thoughtful, if incredibly sappy. Ben didn’t know that Jason could be that sweet, even if it is also so, so cheesy. After the flow of water peters out, he returns the watering can to where he found it, hopefully so that the owner won’t notice. The pear tree, however, might be a little harder to conceal. If it lasts for the next few months, they might have to get Jos up to help them make cider. Any Christmas present that can result in alcohol is a good one, Ben reckons, even if they’ll need to put in effort. As he ambles back into the flat, the folded piece of paper tied around his finger catches his eye.

 

Ben lifts it for a closer glance. Jason’s shocked him, really, but in a good way. This is, he hopes, going to be a very merry Christmas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has sort of taken on a life of its own much longer than I initially intended, which is rather odd....

Ben heads back inside and immediately hears a flutter of wings. Alan needs tending to, obviously, although he’s not quite sure how to take care of a partridge. Ben steps back into Jason’s bedroom and retrieves the bird, which perches upon his arm, like an eagle. Reaching for his mobile phone, he snaps a selfie and sends it on to Jason.

_Found ur Xmas present. We now have a pet_

Ben carries Alan out into the living room. He places him down on the couch, then keeps an eye on him as he steps into their spare room, doubling as a shed. Flicking on the light, sheathed by a cobweb, Ben surveys the overstuffed, small room. Curled over in the corner is a scroll of thick mesh. Ben carefully steps through the mess to retrieve it, to use it to construct a more suitable home for Alan. Thankfully, the bird is still perched on the couch when he returns. Alan’s rather docile, if nothing else, which Ben appreciates. It would have been fitting for Jason to dose him up on red food colouring first, but if he did, it’s already worn off.

 

Ben places down the mesh beside the couch. His eye catches a note shoved down the side. Ben retrieves it, unfolding it so that he can read it.

_There’s something in every room, for every one of the 12 days (some double-up obviously). Txt when you find them all. Happy Christmas!_

“Alright, Alan.” Ben can’t help but chuckle. “Do you want to help me find them?”

He sinks to his knees. The thud of his kneecaps against the hard wooden floor is similar, but now he is curious, rather than fuelled by passion.

“Come on.” Ben whistles and Alan jumps onto his shoulder. “Stay put, you’ll be fine. We’re looking for the other presents from our mate Jason.”

He moves gingerly, so as not to startle Alan.

“Where do you think the next one might be?” Ben questions.

Jason and the other lads would be in stitches if they saw him right now. Perhaps the festive season has mellowed him, but he’s been touched by Jason’s sweetness. Ben ambles into the kitchen and begins opening and closing the cupboards, carefully. Inevitably there’s been something that needed eating before either of them left that’s still there. Ben doesn’t mind cleaning duty like that; it’s definitely his job over Jason’s. Finally, above the fridge, where he stashes his fruit and nut chocolate and the cough medicine, Ben spies the missing pair of his batting gloves.

 

After he fishes them out, he notices what has been scribbled on them – a drawing of a turtle and the letters ‘G L’ crossed out, replaced by a D. Ben draws his eyebrows together, then giggles and taps the gloves together.

“Two turtle doves.” He shakes his head. “At least they’re not the real things.”

Ben looks towards Alan, still perched on his shoulder.

“Sorry, Alan.”

 

+

 

Before he searches for more presents, Ben knows that he needs to do the sensible thing and build a suitable home for Alan, so that the partridge won’t come to harm roaming around their flat. Inside’s best, at this chilly time of year, so he opts to build something in the living room that can get carried around. Ben unrolls the mesh over their couch, where Alan is sitting, glancing up at him. After hooking the mesh over the back of the couch, he steps back. It’ll do for now, while Ben searches for the other presents from Jason.

 

+

 

Ben’s not really sure what partridges eat, but Alan’s making a terrible noise. He hasn’t found any more presents yet. Ben needs to feed their bird, before he continues his mission. He sits down against the front of the couch. Alan scurries forward and peers through the mesh. Ben reaches a finger through to stroke down the bird’s neck. Instead, Alan nips at his finger. Ben withdraws it just in time.

“Ouch, Alan,” he reprimands. “You’re hungry, aren’t you? We need to figure something out, you shouldn’t be left hungry in a cage.”

On his phone, Ben searches ‘partridge food’ and thanks the wonders of modern technology. All that comes up is recipes to cook partridge. Ben quickly covers the screen with his hand.

“Sorry, Alan,” he apologises. “You shouldn’t have to see that. At the same time.”

Ben pauses and removes his hand.

“You tried to eat me, so maybe I’ll eat you.” He chuckles.

Ben wouldn’t, in case it upset Jason, even though it might not. Nonetheless, he searches again, this time ‘food for partridges’. The search result is an academic paper. Ben clicks on it, it’s about feeding game birds, rather than feeding yourself with game birds. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there are pages and pages and pages of information about how to feed birds. It’s information overload for Ben. He flicks through it, finger nearly getting sore from overuse. They have, Ben would only admit to himself, been working. There are tables of facts and figures, with various required nutrients listed.

 

Ben places down his phone and sighs, rubbing his eyes with the sides of his hands. He knows that there’s a pet shop in town, maybe they would know. Ben’s not sure if it would be open at this time of the year, although it’s the early afternoon, it’s a Thursday. That’s a possibility that he decides to take. Besides, Ben needs to stretch his wings (pardon the pun) now that he’s back home.

 

+

 

Ben only knows that the pet shop’s there because it’s next door to a café that Jason raves about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....I found when trying to clear space on my computer that I had actually written more of this story than I thought I had. So, here we go with a final chapter! I can't believe that this story was from about a year and a half ago, but I hope that what I've written is half alright. Enjoy!

Without Jason, Ben’s done three laps of the block. He’s shivering, and not even sure if it’s the same block. There’s no pet shop in sight. Turning the corner for what feels like the tenth time, Ben sees a few young boys approaching him.   
“Ben Stokes!” one of them shrieks, rushing towards him. “It’s actually Ben Stokes, isn’t it?”  
They rush towards him.  
“Ben Stokes!” they scream again.  
Ben’s cornered, like Alan on the couch underneath the mesh. He smiles at them.   
“Yes, buddy,” Ben confirms. “Merry Christmas, lads.”

With a wave, he keeps walking.  
“Ben Stokes wished us a Merry Christmas.” They sound stunned.  
“That’s better than Santa Claus,” the other boy answers.  
Ben chuckles as he, not thinking about where he’s walking, continues across the alleyway onto the next block of shops.

It’s there that he finally recognises the pet shop awning, next to Jason’s trendy café, striped in orange, blue and white. Ben wraps his knuckles against the glass front door, closed. Inside is illuminated by scarlet heat lamps. The animals within are curled up under them. A friendly-faced lady approaches and opens the door, allowing Ben to slip inside. He usually would have hoped not to be recognised again, but those boys had been delightful, rather than fresh-faced vultures. It’s a fine line, Ben’s realised over the course of his career.  
“Are you looking for a Christmas present?” the lady wants to know.  
“No.” Ben shakes his head. “Actually, I received a Christmas present.”

He nearly elaborates. He nearly wants to say ‘from my boyfriend’, or ‘from my partner’, or ‘from my lover’. Yet, Ben doesn’t know if any of that is true. What is Jason to him? Before the presents, Ben would have said that they are mates – teammates, flatmates – who have sex sometimes. They don’t sleep together, they have sex. Beyond the euphemistic, that’s a distinction. There’s a difference. Ben knows it all too well. Now, Jason’s given him all of these cheesy presents, and maybe it’s just for a laugh. Jason doesn’t want them to be ‘true loves’, as the carol would say. He’s sure of that – sort of. Besides, he can’t allude to something more in their relationship, in the chance that he’s recognised and he says too much.

They’re all hiding in plain sight. At least, they’ve always reckoned, they’re in it together.  
“I received a partridge,” Ben eventually chooses to say, “and he’s hungry. Well, I think of him as a he, I don’t really know.”  
“I can teach you how to sex them if you like.” The woman’s face is bright and radiant.  
Ben raises his eyebrows instinctively, paranoid that she can somehow read his mind and his split-second, deep musings. Who does she think he is? Ben’s cheeks blush redder than his hair, as well as Morgs’ and Jonny B’s, put together. Then, he gulps, the cogs in his mind ticking over and realising the veterinary explanation, and the practical application of such knowledge.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Ben says. “I would just like to know what to feed him. It. The partridge.”  
“So you’re not planning to breed them?” the lady asks.  
Ben shakes his head again.  
“Just a pet,” he mentions. “I might even eat him one day, but we’ll just have to wait and see. I’ve grown rather fond of it.”

The lady beams and pats his arm.  
“I like a man who’s fond of his birds,” she comments.  
Ben lets out a chuckle. The irony in the double-meaning of her words doesn’t escape him.   
“It’s a partridge you’ve got, isn’t it?” the woman checks.

“Yes,” Ben confirms. “It was a gift, all I know is that it’s a partridge. Also, how do you house a partridge? It’s sitting on my couch at the moment, still, hopefully.”  
“We have aviaries here that we can sell you,” the lady reveals. “I can show you if you’d like.”  
“Alright,” Ben agrees.  
He’s not sure that he would be able to build something to appropriately house Alan. Jason would bag him for taking the easy way out, but they would both know that it’s exactly what Jason himself would have done. He even would have bought one with all the bells and whistles. The lady directs Ben through to the back of the pet shop.

Behind the door, away from the animals in the shop front, is a cramped space filled with stock. It reminds Ben of the warehouse he once visited for a media opportunity, where their bags were packed with their tour gear.   
“Our bird accessories are upstairs.” The lady leads Ben up a narrow wooden staircase, to the first floor of the spacious pet shop.  
It seems to keep unfolding the further in they walk. Finally, the lady halts.  
“These are our aviaries,” she mentions.  
Ben’s lips part in amazement. The walls are covered with homes for birds of all different sizes. Some look like functional cages, whereas others almost look as big as Ben’s whole flat.

“Would it go inside or outside?” Ben wants to know.  
“It depends on which one you choose.”  
Of course it does. Ben doesn’t know that animals are so complicated. As a kid, they’d had a cat, and it had just slept the whole time.  
“I’ll pick an outside one,” Ben decides.  
Sure, he likes the company for the meantime, but when Jason is back, they’ll want their privacy.  
“Excellent choice,” the lady commends. 

+

Ben decides to wear his turtle doves for the rest of the day. He appreciates the rhyming slang more than he’d care to let Jason know. Later that day, Ben is slowly unpacking his suitcase when he stumbles across something fluffy in the bottom drawer. He retrieves it in his fingers, careful to avoid the sharp points. Ben drops the pile onto the edge of the bed. Three tiny faces stare up at him through fake yellow fluff. Each Easter craft chicken – he hasn’t touched one of these since nursery school – is stabbed with a toothpick. Around the non-pointy end, a French flag hangs, having been taped on. They’re numbered – one, two, three – alongside the female symbol on each, in thin marker.

+

While Ben arrives in Mumbai with most of the rest of the squad, Jason’s flight is arriving later that day from Sydney, via Singapore. Ben meets him in the doorway of his hotel room. They hug tightly, swaying from side to side like a pendulum. Ben doesn’t ever want to let go, not that he’d tell Jason that. Finally, they do part. Jason’s wearing a dreamy smile.   
“Come in, when you’re ready,” Ben invites, beckoning him in.  
“I might as well make myself at home,” Jason decides, stepping inside Ben’s hotel room.  
He closes the door behind them.

“Thank you for my Christmas presents.” Ben’s rocking on the balls of his feet, a little anxious. “Alan’s staying with Burnsy, his godfather, apparently, he’s decided.”  
Jason draws his eyebrows together. Ben’s about to explain when Jason’s eyes widen in realisation.  
“The partridge, you found the partridge, Alan.” He giggles. “That’s a good name. We have a pet partridge.”  
“I made Burnsy promise not to eat him,” Ben insisted.  
“Burnsy wouldn’t eat him,” Jason confirmed. “Burnsy helped me track him down. We called him Patty. Patty Partridge.”  
Ben laughed.

“That’s not even funny,” he comments. “I thought that you could do better than that.”  
“Alright,” Jason smirks.  
Ben takes a step closer.  
“So,” he asks, “how have you been? How was Sydney?”

The city’s name conjures up balmy days, fleeting joys within the depths of defeat.  
“Pretty good,” Jason answers.   
“I saw that catch you took against Morgs’ team, I forget what they’re called,” Ben notes.  
“Sydney Blunder?” Jason quips.

Ben draws his eyebrows together.  
“Oh,” he realises. “That’s mean.”  
Ben widens his eyes and purses his lips. Jason folds his arms.  
“It’s just a bit of fun,” Jason insists. “Hey, did you see what Morgs did the other night? That was incredible.”

Ben shakes his head and chuckles.  
“I’ve only spent the last nine hours on a plane talking about it,” he admits.  
“Really?” Jason is genuinely surprised.  
“Well, the lads have been baiting him,” Ben explains. “They’ve been getting it out of him.”

Jason’s eyes wander downwards.  
“Five gold rings,” he observes.  
Ben holds up his left hand, a wooden ring painted with sparkly gold adorning each finger.  
“The craft section at Poundland,” he mentions. “I don’t have secret riches.”

Jason steps closer with a smile and places his hands around Ben’s torso.   
“Good,” he says.  
Ben frowns. Jason laughs.  
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he insists. “I mean, good that if you had them you’d share them with me.”

“I’d share them with Alan,” Ben trails off.  
Jason throws his head back and chuckles.  
“When the partridge steals your love from me, I’m eating him,” he jokes.  
Suddenly, Ben plants a kiss on his lips, more passionate than ever before. Head spinning, Jason leans back, but he doesn’t break their embrace. In truth, he’s glad that the presents have shown how he really feels about Ben. He returns the kiss, passionate and loving. They cushion each other as they tumble into the sheets together.

+

The following morning, Ben awakes to Jason unpacking his suitcase. He props himself up on his elbows and smiles, if a little confused.   
“I promise, I’m not getting too comfortable, I know that I have my own room to go to,” Jason confirms, “but that doesn’t mean that I won’t be spending plenty of time here.”  
He continues to fish around amongst his clothes.  
“I’ve brought you a present, from Sydney, to complete the set,” Jason reveals. “Just a minute.”  
He continues to forage.  
“Found it,” Jason eventually cheers. “I knew that I had put it somewhere extra safe, so it wouldn’t get torn or bent.”

He stands with something in his hands. Jason turns and sits down on the edge of the bed, presenting the item out to Ben, who accepts it with a grin.   
“Seven swans, not really a-swimming, although they could have a dive under the bathroom tap for authenticity if you would like,” he offers.   
Ben nods in agreement at the sheet of seven stickers bearing the emblem of the Sydney Swans.  
“No, I think they’re fine, thank you.” Ben glances up. “Much better than seven live swans in the flat.”  
“I did think that one live partridge was enough, more live animals would inevitably stretch the friendship,” Jason divulges.

“Probably,” Ben agrees with a nod.  
“That’s the Australian rules football club that plays at the SCG in their winter,” Jason explains. “Their players were starting to come back to train. They were just lying around there. I thought, perfect, there you go, complete the set of presents, seven swans a-swimming.”  
Ben runs his finger along the curved edge of the sheet. He glances back up at Jason.  
“Did you cut some off?” Ben queries.  
“Yep,” Jason admits, pressing his palms against the bed and leaning back. “Well, I couldn’t exactly give you eight stickers. The carol only says that there were seven swans a-swimming, not eight.”

“That’s very precise of you,” Ben comments.  
“I’m a precise man,” Jason insists, nodding once.  
With a cheeky grin, Ben peels off one of the stickers. He presses it down in the centre of Jason’s forehead and smooths its surface out over the skin. Ben finally presses it down with a kiss.   
“There you go,” he says. “Now you’re the swan.”  
Ben removes another sticker and holds it up.  
“Where would you like this one?” he asks.

Jason holds up his left hand.  
“Maybe on the back of my hand.” He giggles. “That’s a little less obvious than the one on my head.”  
Obliging, Ben applies the sticker.  
“Alright,” he says, “five more to go.”

“The other hand, then both feet, then you choose for the last two,” Jason lists.  
Ben nods, widened his cheeky grin. He appreciates the free range. Ben’s already made his mind up. However, he’s going to make sure that he has a little bit of fun with Jason first. Ben peels back another sticker and places it down on the back of Jason’s right hand.  
“They’re matching now,” he points out.  
Jason nods in agreement. Ben flicks a glance towards the other man’s feet.  
“Alright, shoes and socks off,” he instructs. “Time for your feet.”  
Jason lifts his feet up onto the bed and gently places them in Ben’s lap.

“Would you be so happy to oblige?” he requests, eyebrows raised and lips curved into a cute, pleading smile.  
“Alright.” Ben chuckles.  
He unties Jason’s laces. Carefully, Ben removes both running shoes. He discards them on the carpet beside the bed, between the wall and Jason’s suitcase. Then, Ben strips off Jason’s thin socks, dropping them on top of the shoes. He runs his palms over Jason’s bare feet. The socks have left a shallow pattern indented into his skin.

Ben snakes his fingers between Jason’s toes, just as he knows he likes.  
“You’re lovely to me,” he comments.  
Ben smiles at Jason.  
“Are we getting sentimental again?” he asks.

Blushing a little, Jason glances towards the stickers.   
“I thought that we already were,” he mentions.  
“Maybe, maybe not,” Ben replies, then grabs a sticker and smooths it down in the centre of the top of Jason’s foot. “I even put the emblem facing your way, so that you could look at it.”

“Oh, Ben, I’ll just spend my whole life looking at it,” Jason quips somewhat sarcastically.  
He grins at Ben.  
“But thanks for your thought,” Jason adds.  
Ben nods once.  
“Just par for the course with me,” he insists, a little cheekily, then kisses Jason.


End file.
